


Low

by PrairieChzHead (msannomalley)



Series: G-Force: Redemption [2]
Category: Battle of the Planets (Cartoon), Kagaku Ninja Tai Gatchaman & Related Fandoms, Kagaku Ninja Tai Gatchaman | Science Ninja Team Gatchaman
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msannomalley/pseuds/PrairieChzHead
Summary: Spectra has taken over the Earth and G-Force is disgraced and in tatters. Jason is on the run. Along the way, he meets a Gal-Sec agent who has something that both the Spectran Regime and the newly formed Terran Resistance is after. Can they make it to safety in time?
Relationships: Jason (Battle of the Planets)/Original Character(s)
Series: G-Force: Redemption [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/380524





	1. Chapter 1

Of all the places to break down, Jason had to do it in No Man’s Land. What made it worse was that the car he was driving reminded him a lot of his old Nissan Skyline. He hated to part with it, but the water pump went out and there was no way for him to have it fixed. He would have to make the trip on foot until he could find another car. It was too risky to hitchhike to his destination. He was headed towards Ventis Est, one of the few space ports on Earth that Spectra hadn’t closed yet. 

He quickly went through his meager belongings and took only what he could stuff in a pocket or carry: a fake ID he’d acquired, a pair of sunglasses, a canteen, a handgun and some ammo, and a burner phone. A secret pocket in his jeans held a few feather shuriken and his cable gun, the last remnants of his former life. Both weapons were of no use to him, as using them would give away his identity as a member of G-Force, but Jason held onto them anyway. 

It was summer. The sun’s heat and light were crushing. Jason’s t-shirt and jeans were beginning to feel uncomfortable as fabric and his sweat joined together to cover him in that clamminess he could never seem to wash off. Worse, that sweat was a magnet for dust and grit. The gravel crunched under his worn, brown leather motorcycle boots. He’d got them a few years ago because he liked how they made him look. Jason wasn’t a vain person, but he did allow himself to indulge occasionally. 

It was easy to lose track of time in this place. Jason’s best guess was that he’d been on this leg of the journey for eight weeks at best. He was already quite tanned and the sun had left its mark in his hair. It was lighter than it’s normal, tawny brown.

Jason had no idea where his teammates were or their fates. It had been a long time since that last battle. Sometimes, when he was trying to fall asleep at night, his mind would replay that final battle with Spectra over and over again.

_“Tiny!” Mark said. “Retreat! That’s an order from the Council.”_

_“What???” Jason exploded. “You got to be fucking kidding me, Mark! Can’t you see that the mech is still attacking?”_

_Mark wouldn’t or couldn’t look at his second. “We have our orders.”_

_“Yeah, well, your orders are wrong. The Council is wrong. What the fuck do they know? Are they here? Do they see what’s going on?”_

_“We have our orders,” Mark said._

_“For fucks’ sake, don’t retreat.”_

_Then a nauseatingly cheerful voice came into the cockpit of the Phoenix. It was 7-Zark-7, the robot coordinator for G-Force. Jason couldn’t stand the damned thing._

_“G-Force,” the robot said. “I will be initiating phase warp in 2 minutes.”_

_“Big ten,” Mark replied._

_Jason had enough. “Fuck the chicken shit Council. If you won’t give the order to take out the mech, then I’ll do it myself.”_

Jason remembered how furiously his blood boiled as he stalked out of the Phoenix’s cockpit and made his way down to the bay where his car was. They’d given his car some ridiculously stupid name which he refused to use. The car was not capable of space travel in the first place, and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why someone would want to call it the Space Mobile. 

When Jason initiated the separation sequence, and the car was lowered to the ground that was the last time Jason saw the rest of G-Force in person.

Jason began walking to the south and west. He knew he was in the middle of what used to be the United States, but he wasn’t sure exactly where. The land was wide open. Hot winds blew from the south. The grasses had long ago turned yellow from the unrelenting wind.

Along the way, Jason was able to glean some information. Earth had fallen to Spectra and her conquerors changed the planet’s name to New Terra. Zoltar had put General Kolakas, one of the highest-ranking officers in the Federation, in charge of Earth. Jason remembered Kolakas as one of those regular military officers who looked down upon G-Force because they were above and beyond the conventional military. Jason hated the smug bastard from the moment he first saw him. Jason was not surprised when he found out that Kolakas was a traitor.

Unfortunately, he found little to no reliable information on his former teammates. The flow of information was controlled by the New Terran Government and they made sure that nothing got out that reflected badly on the regime. 

Then one day, he saw his own “Wanted” Poster.

It was G-2 of G-Force they were after and not Jason Anderson. There was an artist’s rendering of him in full Birdstyle, but nothing specific like eye or hair color. However, there was a price on his head. Jason noticed that there were wanted posters of the rest of the team. He felt a perverse sense of satisfaction when he saw that the price on his head was higher than Mark’s.

 _You finally beat Mark at something_. Spectra thought Jason was more of a threat than golden-boy, perfect, G-Force Commander Mark. 

#

Traveling on foot meant Jason was losing time. He lost more time when the auras appeared, and the nausea hit him right before the migraine kicked in. Jason couldn’t travel until the worst of it passed. He started having these migraines before the end of the war. Migraine meds hadn’t helped him then and he had no way to get his hands on any now He had to let it run its course.

Jason traveled off the main roads and his travels took him into smaller towns that seemed relatively isolated and untouched from the New Terran Government’s reach. However, he wouldn’t allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. Wherever he was, he made sure to pay attention to what was going on around him, especially what the locals were saying.

One morning, he decided to splurge a bit on breakfast in the local diner in one of those many small towns whose names he would forget. The local citizens still used the old Federation currency, either because they didn’t have access to the new money or they did it as an act of defiance towards Spectra and New Terra. The coffee, though weak and kind of stale, was ambrosia. It had been so long since he’d had coffee of any kind.

As Jason waited for his food, he learned something that was both interesting and unsettling. G-Force was not held in very high regard by the locals. He heard the old men complaining about the team over their coffee and cribbage game.

“All that tax money spent to train them and they were so damned useless.”

“They would have been more useful if the damn Federation actually let them fight.”

Jason silently agreed with the person who said that. _If that old man only knew that I tried._

Mark never acted fast enough for Jason’s liking and Jason wasn’t shy about letting Mark and the others know this. They, the Chief, fucking Zark, the damned Council, always called him “hot-headed” or “impulsive” or even “rebellious”. Then he would be reprimanded. Nobody was interested in hearing his side of the story. Rather than waste his breath trying to sway people whose minds were already made up or point out their own hypocrisy whenever Mark ran off on his own, Jason took whatever was handed to him. It was easier that way. He’d rather save his energy for the battles that actually mattered.

Because they were never interested in hearing Jason’s side, they did not know that Jason was someone who could not sit by and wait for Mark to grow a pair and do something while Spectran mechs destroyed cities and murdered people right in front of them. Helplessness was not in Jason Anderson’s vocabulary. The more helpless he felt, the angrier he got. The angrier he got, the more inclined Jason was to act. Jason had been this way for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know the root cause for why he reacted like this. He wasn’t going to waste time with navel gazing, trying to figure this out, either. It was just who he was.

Instead of bothering to understand, everyone else just judged, convicted and punished him without knowing his motivation. That last argument on their final mission was no different.

Jason was brought back to the present when a thin-voiced older man put in his two cents. “I heard a rumor that they weren’t even human. They were robots or cyborgs or Terminators.” 

_You know that Terminators aren’t real, right?_ Jason thought as he suppressed the urge to laugh out loud.

“Well,” another person said. “I heard a rumor that they were actually Spectran plants whose mission was to sabotage everything from the inside.”

Jason bristled, but tried not to show any outward sign of his anger. He focused on his coffee cup instead. That criticism stung him more than he wanted to admit.

There was rumbling from the group. Whatever they were saying, they didn’t want the rest of the diner to hear. Then a portly man declared loudly, “They never should have let that girl be on the team. All that pussy is nothing but a distraction.” A few of his companions nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” another person chimed in. “Her job was probably to see to ‘morale’, if you know what I mean.” Several other men guffawed and elbowed each other.

Jason became even more pissed off, but he kept his counsel. They were old men, not in any shape, and most likely were all talk and no action. It wouldn’t look good for the stranger in town to start picking fist fights with men who were old enough to be his grandfather. Even if he was picking fights with old men in order to defend the honor of someone who wasn’t actually present to hear the disgusting things being said about her.

_But would she defend you if the shoe were on the other foot?_

His food arrived and as he ate…real eggs and real steak…he had time to ponder that question and he came to the conclusion that Princess would only stand up for Jason if doing so made Mark jealous. Despite his best efforts, Jason couldn’t always avoid being dragged into their insecurities or their against regulations non-relationship.

And yet, Jason was labeled the “promiscuous one”. The tabloids and the gossip web sites had a field day with that one. G1, the lily-white hero vs. G-2, the Casanova. If they only knew the truth.

Jason kept his focus on the plate in front of him. It’d been awhile since he had a meal this good. He was so engrossed in his food, he was caught off-guard when someone came up to his table.

“There you are! Why didn’t you wake me up?” The voice belonged to a female and she spoke louder than normal. She was a brunette with hazel eyes. She wore jeans, a brown leather jacket, and lug-soled boots. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which she’d threaded through the back opening of a cap bearing the logo of a team from some professional sport that Jason didn’t care about.

Jason glanced up at her, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

The woman kept chattering. “You should have woken me up,” she chided him as she slid into the booth so she was seated across from Jason. There was something maddeningly familiar about her, but he decided that his guard would stay up until he could figure out why she was so familiar to him.

“I thought I’d be nice and let you sleep in,” he said. Then he remembered he’d seen her around Center Neptune over the years. She was Federation. But he couldn’t remember her name.

“Awww,” the woman cooed. “You’re too good to me.”

The woman’s voice caught the attention of Joyce, the waitress. She came over to the booth and then asked, “Good morning, honey,” Joyce said, handing the woman a menu. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee is fine,” the woman said as she rewarded Joyce with a smile.

Joyce returned with a brown ceramic cup and she poured the liquid into it. Then she looked at Jason. “More coffee, sweetie?”

The young woman was hit with a sudden coughing fit.

“Are you okay, honey?” Joyce was concerned.

She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Joyce turned to Jason and held out the coffee pot.

“Yes, please,” Jason said. Joyce poured the coffee and then was off.

Lina. That was her name. Agent Carolina Renato. Lina for short. She worked as a Gal-Sec Intelligence Officer before the downfall. Jason had seen her in passing, usually as he was being summoned to Chief Anderson’s office for a reprimand. She was usually part of the intelligence briefings that always seemed to precede Jason’s own disciplinary meetings.

Lina began speaking again in that annoying, overly bubbly tone. “I appreciate you letting me sleep in, _sweetie._ ” She put extra emphasis on the last word as she tried to keep the corners of her mouth from quirking up. “But it means we’re going to get a late start this morning. We can’t be late for my sister’s wedding.”

As she spoke, Jason noticed that she had produced a ball point pen and a napkin and she began writing something on the napkin. He couldn’t see what she wrote.

“I think it’s so nice my sister decided not to let all the politics and stuff like that keep her from having her special day, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “It’s a nice break from all the recent turmoil… _honey._ ” 

She finished writing and pushed the napkin towards Jason while she kept talking.

_I need your help. Spectra is after me. I need to get to Ventis Est City ASAP._

_Not this again._ Jason had to struggle to not blurt that out. Instead, Jason looked at her quizzically. Lina pulled the napkin back and wrote some more. She pushed the napkin back towards Jason when she finished.

 _I have information that could bring them down._

Jason looked up and saw the pleading look in her hazel eyes. He had a weakness for damsels in distress, which usually came back to bite him because those distressed damsels ended up being Spectran. Lina Renato neither fit the damsel in distress stereotype nor was she Spectran. He made his decision.

“You’re right about the late start,” he said. “We should get going.”

Right on cue, Joyce showed up at the table with the bill. Jason paid it, made sure to leave Joyce a good tip and then, taking Lina by the elbow, headed out the diner.

“Sweetie?” Lina snorted and then laughed.

“Speak for yourself, _honey,_ ” Jason retorted. “I don’t have a car,” he added. “If you’re going to come with me, we have to go on foot.”

“I have a car,” she said. Then Lina turned off the main street onto a side street and walked up to a Jeep that had a hard top.

“Yours?” Jason asked.

“It is for now.” Lina pulled out a set of keys and then tossed them to Jason. “Here you go, Speed Racer,” she said. “You can drive.”

It felt good to drive again, although Jason wished the vehicle was a car and not a Jeep. But a Jeep was better suited to the terrain. Autumn and winter were coming and this region could be inhospitable.

Jason noticed a rucksack on the passenger seat. Lina grabbed it and put it on the floor where it rested next to her feet. While he adjusted the driver’s seat, she was reaching into the sack. Then, as he pulled the Jeep away from the curb and onto the street, he felt her pressing something into his hand. It was two dollars in Federation currency.

“For the coffee,” she said.

“Coffee’s on me,” Jason said. “I want to know what’s going on. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t,” Lina said. “It was purely chance.” She shifted slightly in the seat, making herself more comfortable. “I’m going to be upfront about this,” she began.

“Okay.”

“I’m on the Most Wanted List.”

“Well, that’s definitely being up front,” Jason nearly chuckled. Then he grew serious. “Is this because of that information you have?”

Lina nodded. “I was asked to do some… ‘research’…on the side. In fact it was Chief Anderson who asked me to do it.”

Jason frowned. “Why?” Anderson was always a tight-ass about doing things by the book. Jason also felt an uncomfortable prick of regret that he tried to stuff back down into whatever depths the emotions had come from. _The man did raise you, after all._

“He suspected there might be a mole inside of the ISO and Gal-Sec. I was able to hack into various databases,” Lina continued, bringing Jason back to the present. “I found classified information on The Luminous One, the Federation _and_ G-Force.”

“What kind?” Jason’s stomach felt leaden. Whatever it was Lina discovered, it couldn’t be good.

“Too much to talk about right now,” she said. “All I can say at the moment is that things are not as they seem.”

“Could you possibly be any more cryptic?” Jason said sarcastically.

“I’m in intelligence,” Lina retorted. “It’s my job to be cryptic. I have a contact in Ventis Est City. Then I’m supposed to go on to find a Chief Kamo and give the information I found to him.”

“Who?” The name was unfamiliar to Jason.

“I don’t know much about him other than he is at one of the mountain bases Spectra didn’t capture and that Anderson trusted him completely. I think he’s an engineer or something. He’s part of the New Terran Resistance Movement.” Lina shrugged. “My contact knows which base he’s stationed at.”

There being an ISO base that hadn’t fallen to Spectra was news to Jason. So was the news of a formal resistance movement. What little news he’d managed to glean made things sound like Spectra had captured all of the ISO bases. A base meant sanctuary. Whoever was left there would be happy to know that not all of G-Force had surrendered. _Maybe the Chief is there?_

The part of him that missed his family was hopeful. There was another part, a small, spiteful, vindictive worm that gnawed at him that desperately hoped for the chance to say _I told you so._ The “proper” way…Mark’s way…the Chief’s way…was a colossal failure. Even at the very moment he was driving a stolen Jeep across the plains, he felt somewhat vindicated.


	2. Chapter 2

Lina had food and maps in the Jeep. They were old-school paper maps. She had a smart phone and a charger, but she wouldn’t use them. The phone looked to fairly new. “The encryption doesn’t work on this,” she told Jason. “I don’t want to take any chances of Spectra tracking me through this thing. Can’t use the maps without the GPS.” She frowned at the paper maps. “I guess horribly outdated maps are better than nothing,” she said.

It turned out that they weren’t too outdated. Since the region was fairly isolated, they had been slow to change their road signs to from the old ones to the new that bore the current place names assigned by Spectra.

Lina played navigator for Jason. “How far do you think we have to go until we get to Ventis Est?” he asked. They’d been on the road for about an hour or so. It was mid-morning.

“Two days, at least,” she said. “That’s just a rough guess. Depends on whether or not we have to take the scenic route.”

Jason didn’t have to ask what she meant by the scenic route.

“Does the radio work?” he wondered. It was too quiet in the Jeep.

“Depends,” she replied. “If you’re in the mood for Spectran propaganda, you have plenty of stations to choose from. If you want music, not so much.” She pointed at the USB port in the radio console. “And this is useless. Even if I turned off the GPS on my phone, the signal is so weak, I couldn’t stream music if I wanted to.” After a few beats, she added, “I’m sorry I’m not better company.” She sounded tired.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, not taking his eyes from the road.

Most of that day’s ride was in silence. Jason drove all of it because it felt so good, so familiar and safe to be sitting behind the wheel. Even the act of putting pressure on the gas pedal felt reassuring. Driving for him was escape and happiness and freedom. It was life. He felt alive.

Periodically, Lina would doze off. The crown of her head touched the passenger side window and she still wore that baseball cap, which shielded her eyes from the brightness of the sun. She would wake up whenever Jason stopped the jeep.

“I can drive,” she would say. “If you need a break.”

“I’m fine,” was his reply.

Lina had a bunch of protein bars in her rucksack which she readily shared with Jason. “I don’t have much cash,” she said. “And what I have, I’m trying to save for when I really need it.”

“Federation cash,” Jason said. It wasn’t a question.

Lina nodded. “Federation currency is worth a lot out here.” Jason knew that to be true. Flash a handful of the old money and people suddenly became very cooperative.

“What about gas?” he asked. “For this?”

Lina reached into her jeans’ pocket and she pulled out what looked like a credit card. 

“Stolen?” he asked.

“Fake,” she answered. “It’s kind of like a skeleton key. It unlocks the card reader. Some of these abandoned gas stations still have gas in the tanks,” she said. 

Jason pursed his lips. He was about to say something about ethics, but then he remembered that he was currently driving a stolen Jeep.

“You’re not going to lecture me about ethical behavior, are you?” Her tone was as razor sharp as her glare. “Because if you are, save your breath.”

Jason opened his mouth to offer up a retort, but nothing came out. Lina was right. Platitudes were never Jason’s thing.

Lina turned to gaze out the window, leaving Jason to silently nurse the wound she’d inflicted to his pride. He was always criticized for not being like Mark and the one time he was just like Mark, he was criticized for that, too, by someone who didn’t know him. _I can’t win._

“Here,” Lina said as she pointed to the gravel road that came up suddenly on right. “We can stay here for tonight.”

Jason said nothing. He turned the Jeep onto the gravel road. Lina scouted the area and when she found what she was looking for, she pointed towards it and said, “Over there.”

“There” was an old shelterbelt near the ruins of an old farmhouse. It was far enough away from the road that nobody would see them. Supper consisted of more protein bars.

“You can take the sleeping bag,” Lina told Jason. “You need the sleep more than me. I’ll keep watch.”

Carolina Renato heard the shifting in the back of the Jeep as Jason settled to sleep. She stayed in the front seat with a shotgun in her lap and slept lightly. It was easy for her to doze where she was because the front seat of the Jeep was not comfortable in the least.

It was pure dumb luck that she happened to run into Chief Anderson’s foster son in that diner. She didn’t know Jason Anderson personally, but she knew of him, had seen him around Center Neptune from time to time, knew a few things _about_ him, but never interacted with him. 

Lina hadn’t planned on becoming an intelligence officer with the Galaxy Security Division of the International Science Organization. She graduated from college with a degree in criminal justice and a minor in psychology and was headed to Quantico to train as an FBI agent. If she were writing her memoir, she’d say that the change in her career path was fate or because of a calling. That was too romantic and Lina was too practical to give into flights of fancy. She could say she ended up at Galaxy Security because she wanted revenge, but then she’d be lying.

Galaxy Security was begging for intelligence agents. They needed them so badly, they were willing to throw all kinds of money at her, including paying off her student loans, and train her in the fine art of espionage. Gal-Sec even kept the promise they made that she would get to see exotic places, both on Earth and in the galaxy.

There was one problem. The shortage of agents didn’t prevent the older, jaded and cynical agents from speculating that someone as young as Lina Renato had gotten where she was without a little “help” or _quid pro quo._

That’s how Lina Renato got a chip on her shoulder. She felt she had to work even harder and longer to prove to everyone that she had earned her ranks and responsibilities because she was capable and smart and not because she was young or pretty or slept with the right person.

When Security Chief Anderson approached her about a year and a half ago with his offer to do some investigative work for him, she jumped at the chance. Anderson seemed to take her seriously and seemed to believe she was good at what she did and smart and capable. She got along with him well. She was saddened and even sickened when she learned his fate. _I wonder if Jason knows about--_. 

It was difficult to know what Jason knew, and if what he knew was the truth. Not other people’s truths, but the actual truth. No, he wouldn’t know the actual truth. Chief Anderson himself didn’t know the actual truth. He’d only suspected it.

There were too many truths. She had those truths on a data stick that wouldn’t be in a safe place until she placed it into the hands of one Chief Saburo Kamo. She knew virtually nothing about the man, other than that Anderson trusted him. Kamo had been with ISO for so long, Anderson had told her, that he’d even worked with the fabled Science Ninja Team. Lina had not had the chance to verify Anderson’s claims before ISO Headquarters was bombed out and G-Force surrendered to Spectra. She suspected Anderson named-dropped the Kagaku Ninja Tai on purpose, to reassure her that Kamo could be trusted completely.

Lina knew that Jason was suspicious of her. Maybe not suspicious, but wary. She didn’t blame him. She’d been in similar situations in the past where wariness and suspicion was her only lifeline. She wanted to be able to tell Jason the entire truth, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to do as she always had done and play it close to the vest.

_He walked towards the overgrown cemetery plot. No one else knew he was here, except for Keyop, and Jason had made the kid swear that he would not tell anyone about this trip. It had been ten years since his parents’ deaths. This was the first time that Jason had made the trip to visit the gravesite._

_Jason approached the headstone. He paid his respects and then laid a bouquet of flowers in front of the headstone. Then he had the feeling that he was not alone. Suddenly, Spectran goons appeared, armed with semi-automatic guns. They shot at him and Jason felt himself shaking as the first bullets hit him._

Jason didn’t feel the jostling of his arm at first. Then he felt it and was confused and forgot where he was.

“Jason,” he heard someone say. The voice belonged to the person jostling his arm to wake him. Clarity was returning. Lina was leaning over the front seat, shaking him. “Wake up.”

When Jason was able to sit up, he scrubbed his face with his hands and he blinked a few times in confusion. Then he remembered he was on the run in a stolen Jeep, in the middle of nowhere, and with someone from his past life that he’d only known in passing.

“Are you okay?” Lina asked softly.

_No._ “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to sound casual. It was too dark in the Jeep for Lina to see the expression on Jason’s face that belied the words he spoke.

He’d started having the nightmares before the end of the war. They were about battles he’d fought, real ones and dream battles. Sometimes, the nightmares were about his parents’ deaths. Jason had been there when they died or rather he was told he was there, but he couldn’t remember actually being there. Jason couldn’t remember the time before the accident or he thought he couldn’t remember. Sometimes he thought he remembered things, like his father carrying Jason on his shoulder after leaving Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve because Jason was little and it was late and even though he was so tired, he fought to stay awake because Santa Claus might have come while they were at church.

It was too dark inside so he couldn’t see the skeptical look on Lina’s face. She didn’t press him on the matter. “You think you can go back to sleep?” she asked him.

“I think so,” he said in a strained voice.

“Alright,” she said. “If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

Jason said nothing. He closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by repeated viewings of Battle of the Planets as an adult. I love the show for what it is: a happy childhood memory and the gateway drug to the original Gatchaman series and anime in general. However, as an adult, I can't help but be appalled at how much gaslighting was going on in the name of "protecting kids from cartoon violence". Even at the tender ages of 8 and 9, I didn't always buy what was being sold to me. I also can't help but be appalled that someone in standards and practices thought it was okay to take kids who could not legally consent and put "cerebonic implants" in their heads. Others have written fiction on the issues they take with the ethics in BoTP. This is my take.


End file.
